And So The Lion Lay Down With The Snake
by EvocativeDecadence
Summary: What begins as a lifetime of burning resentment flames into a maelstrom of revenge, unwanted desire and violent clashing of emotions as two dominant men struggle to make sense of their burgeoning relationship, and their role in it. HP/SS and HG/RW This is a violent slash fiction, so if you don't like same-sex pairings or emotional dom/sub fics, please don't read!
1. Chapter 1

Severus Snape paced the floor of his private quarters with increasing murderous fury. How…_dare…_ that Potter brat insult him that way? In front of his own House? The impudence, the audacity, the sheer arrogance and brutish misogyny Potter displayed beggared the imagination. Snape was going to _relish_ the detention that he had in mind for that mewling little quim for the next month. Potter was going to wish that he had never survived infancy.

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"Oh, come on Harry! You know that this time…you kind of asked for it! Professor Snape was fully within his rights to give you detention! You know not to bait him." Harry stopped his mad pacing of the Gryffindor common room and looked askance at Hermione; she looked down.

"Are you kidding me? The man insults my father's name in my face and you say he was within his _rights?_" Harry ground out.

Hermione shrugged sheepishly, "Well…that doesn't mean that allows you to call him a greasy old git only a mother could love". Harry looked to Ron, who was studiously looking at his cuticles.

"Come on, mate! You know I am right, right? Help a fellow out here." Harry muttered. Ron finally looked up, and his face bloomed bright red, making his hair positively glow in the firelight of the common room.

"Well, you see…I would mate, you know I would. But…" Ron looked sideways at Hermione and muttered, "You did point your wand at him." Ron raised both his hands in a gesture of solidarity. "I mean, ya! He is the greasy bat of the dungeons, but even McGonagall would give you detention for _that_." Harry flopped into a big easy chair and stared into the flickering flames and heaved a huge sigh. Hermione came and sat at his feet on the plush maroon carpet.

"Harry? I _am _sorry that he insulted your father-I really am. But maybe this is a…lesson in controlling your anger, at least where Professor Snape is concerned?" Hermione paused hesitantly, then continued, "I think you let him get to you too much. He is a bitter, angry man with a chip the size of Hogwarts on his shoulder, and he blames your father. He does not have the right to take that out on you, but nevertheless, he is a professor…which means he will most likely always win. So…maybe-" Harry cut her off.

"Maybe what?! Maybe let him disrespect me, my father, and my family?! Let him say whatever he pleases and torture those weaker than him? No. He is a sadistic, awful excuse for a man and I will _never_ let him slur my family or anyone else. I will _always_ stand up to him and all like him. I cannot sit and watch. I can't." Harry pushed to his feet and stalked to the stairs leading to the boy's dormitory, where he paused for a moment.

"I am going to bed. Sleep well Hermione." With that, Harry went upstairs. Hermione sat on the floor in silence, and a few moments later Ron joined her from his seat at the table. He put his arm around her and she lay her head on Ron's shoulder. She closed her eyes, and they sat like that for the rest of the night.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry did not sleep a wink that night. Useless rage simmered under the surface all night and prevented him from getting any rest. As a result, he was even more cranky than usual. As soon as dawn broke over the horizon and gave him an excuse to get out of bed and get ready for the day without raising a few eyebrows at the ungodly hour, he rolled out of bed and ran a comb through his untidy hair. Looking in the mirror, he inwardly groaned. He looked awful and felt worse. Absently, he ran through his day's schedule: first class, Charms with Flitwick, then Transfiguration with McGonagall, finally, double potions with Snape. He couldn't wait.

Harry descended the stairs to the Gryffindor common room long before any of his peers even got out of bed. Hermione was already spread out all over one of the long tables with her various texts and scrolls for some subject or another. Probably all of them. Harry paused as he entered the room.

He began tentatively, "Hermione? I am sorry for acting like a bloody twat last night. I have been a little on edge lately and I took my frustration out on you and Ron." Hermione looked up slightly, and sighed.

"Oh, come off it. You know that a little tantrum is not going to kill me. Get over here." She huffed. Harry smiled. Now, that was the Hermione he knew and loved. He walked over and sat down at the table, then snickered.

"Really, Hermione? Getting started early, are we?" Harry snorted as he eyed the 7th year literature that Hermione was avidly annotating. Hermione huffed again.

"It is never too early for knowledge," she said primly, and with a knowing look eyed Harry suspiciously. "And how is your homework going? I know for a fact that you have a two ½ foot parchment on the bezoar stone and its purposes due in potions today. _And _you have double potions today." Harry pursed his lips in thought.

"Mmmmmmm. Yeah, probably have about two." He paused, pulling a face. "Inches." Hermione's head flew up from the scroll she had been nose-deep in, causing her hair to fly up in a bushy halo around her face. "Two _inches?_" She gasped in horror. Harry put his hands up in surrender.

"Woah, woah, where's the fire 'Mione? I mean, it's Potions. Nobody does the essays for Potions." Hermione looked indignant. "_I_ do the essays for Potions." Harry chuckled. "Well, Hermione, I think you are the _only _person who does the essays for Potions." Hermione sniffed at him and pointedly looked back down at her parchment on the study of medieval wandless charms.

The common room had slowly begun to fill with groggy students milling around and chatting about the courses they had that day, commiserating and bemoaning the schedule they had to endure. Ron came down the stairs and sat down at the table with Harry and Hermione.

"Are you done being a grumpy wanker or can we move on already?" Ron said on a sleepy yawn to Harry. "And good morning to you as well, Ronald." Harry said drily. Ron chuffed him on the arm playfully. "I mean, we cool mate?" Ron looked at him from under lowered lids. "Yeah. We cool." Harry said with a small smile.

"Well, that is all well and good for the two of you, but it is time for our first class and I am _not _going to be late because you two need a moment, thank you very much." Hermione said with a sudden rap of her quill on the table. Quickly, she gathered her scrolls and whisked away.

"What was _that_ all about?" Ron said, surprised. He actually looked quite comical, caught halfway between a yawn and trying to sound coherent at the same time. Harry sent a bewildered glance at Ron. "That girl is a force of nature." He chuckled. They began to gather their things and left the common room for their first class of the day.

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Charms and Transfiguration passed by in a blur for Harry. He knew that he had accumulated quite a bit of homework, but for the life of him, he couldn't tell you on what it was about. As he descended into the dungeons for double Potions his stomach roiled. He was not looking forward to this class at all. At the very least Ron and Hermione would be there as well, so he would have someone to commiserate with. He walked in and went to his seat quietly, sitting down and began to get his quill, ink and textbook out, and prepared for the worst.

A slow drawl assaulted his ears, "Welllll. Looks like our resident hero has deigned to grace us with his presence today. Aren't we _lucky?_ Any charming witticisms today, Potter?" Harry gritted his teeth as his ears burned hot. He refused to look up, and remained silent.

"So, too good to talk to the rest of us commoners, Potter?" Snape sneered. "Arrogant. Just like your _father._" He spat. Harry closed his eyes, and focused on his breathing. After a moment's silence, Snape began the lesson. Point one to me, Harry thought vindictively. As Snape dismissed them to begin their brewing, Harry went silently to work chopping up the ingredients. He became immersed in his ministrations, and allowed the repetitive work to calm his frayed nerves. He became so unaware that he did not notice Snape approach. Snape leant down and hissed right into Harry's ear, "Don't think you can ignore _me_, boy."

Harry jumped, startled and almost chopping off his thumb. He felt a shiver roll down his spine and he swallowed convulsively. He honestly had not been paying attention to anything else for the past twenty minutes and Snape's unexpected appearance caught him off guard. His ear tingled where Snape's breath had whispered past. His startled gaze flew up and froze, wide eyed and staring, a mere few inches away from Snape's. He swallowed again. "Mmuh…" he breathed, struck dumb. Snape smirked slightly and murmured nastily, "Articulate as always, Mr. Potter." He straightened and smiled vindictively, "And fifty points from Gryffindor for this abysmal excuse of a potion. Class dismissed. Collect your samples and leave at once." Snape turned and walked to his desk. Sitting down, he shuffled his papers and sneered once again, "Oh, and Mr. Potter, don't think I have forgotten about your detention tonight. Seven pm. sharp. Do not be late." And with that, Harry numbly grabbed his belongings and trudged his way out of the classroom with the rest of his peers.


End file.
